


While The Sun Still Rises

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Birds of Prey (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-12
Updated: 2008-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:12:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1630850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In darkness, there is light.</p>
            </blockquote>





	While The Sun Still Rises

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ellenm, who requested Barbara/Helena but no shmoopy stuff. This story is about as far away from "shmoopy" as you can get - this story contains character death. I did not mean to write anything this dark, but the Batverse can do that to you. I apologise about the lack of graphic Helena/Barbara - I'm not used to femmeslash but I hope what's there is satisfying.
> 
> Written for ellenm

 

 

While The Sun Still Rises

Helena didn't sneak, but she walked with a quieter step as she went to leave. But then Barbara was there, looking up with a frown etched deeply into her face, and Helena knew what she'd say without needing to hear it.

"Save it," said Helena, strutting past, purpose in every step and determination and defiance on her own face.

"Not tonight," Barbara begged. "Please, Helena."

"If it was any other night, I'd go," Helena argued, and the night agreed, calling to her like it did on every other.

"Helena -"

"I'm not like you. I can't just stay here and stare at the walls. I belong out -" Helena realised, too late, what she was saying. "Barbara -"

"It's okay. I know," Barbara sighed, and reached out to touch Helena, taking her arm in a light grip. "But not tonight. Please, Helena. Please."

The fear in Barbara's eyes was so raw Helena couldn't look away. She gazed, mesmerised, then reached out and grazed her knuckles against Barbara's cheek, a whisper of a promise.

"Have we got any food around here?" she asked, not waiting for a reply as she changed direction and headed for the kitchen.

* * * *

They sat, neither watching the screen even as their eyes were on it. Helena ate as much of the two day old pizza as she could stomach, then tried to give her attention to the movie. She managed a couple of seconds, then marched to the set and turned it off with more force than necessary.

"Hel -"

"You were watching it as much as I was," said Helena, folding her arms. She'd changed out of her street clothes into jeans and an old t-shirt but she couldn't relax, couldn't stop thinking of the world beyond the clock tower's walls. She couldn't pretend as well as Barbara, and was tired of trying. If she had much more of this, she'd find herself in Arhkam before the night was over.

"Are you coming or what?" asked Helena. After a harsh pause, she softened. "If we can't be normal tonight, we might as well go there." 

Barbara stared, looking like she was seeing nothing, then nodded slowly. Helena didn't allow for feelings of triumph; it was no victory for anyone, least of all either of them.

"I'll get your coat," she said, and hurried to do so before Barbara could change her mind.

* * * *

There was no thunder or lightning or anything other than normalcy as Helena drove them through Gotham. Gangs of street punks and bikers littered the roads and lines of revellers queuing to get into exclusive nightclubs had taken over the sidewalks. 

The moon hung in the sky but the stars were barely visible thanks to the bright glare of the city lights, and Helena drove on, through the streets, glad there were still people left who were blessed enough to go about their lives without shadows of the dead following them in their wake. She envied them, but mostly it was a relief. It felt like everyone in Gotham had their ghosts. Helena forgot, living her life, being in the clock tower, that there were still people left who'd been untouched by tragedy. To see such normality was to be given a reminder of what they fought so hard for.

The car ride was made in silence. Neither woman spoke. Barbara took up the backseat, staring ahead. Helena could see her eyes in the mirror as she sat behind the wheel, and she couldn't stop looking. The regret in them was as mesmerising as the fear earlier had been. Barbara's eyes were deep and true and always had been. Helena's own were shallow, a lie, and only anyone who could get close enough to look knew they held more depth than first impressions gave. Helena liked it that way, but she envied the courage it took to have eyes like Barbara, to be an open book.

Gotham Cemetery was five miles from the central roots of the city, and Helena parked the car by the big iron gates, which were rotting due to age and squeaked in protest on their hinges when touched. Helena led the way, letting Barbara follow, holding the gate open for Barbara's chair and then closing it behind them. The gravel path crunched under Helena's feet and the only noise came from the wilderness around them. If she strained her ears enough, she could hear the city, but it was quiet, little more than a distant hum, like sounds trying to filter through from another world.

"Barbara?" Helena asked, when she realised Barbara had stopped her chair and was just gazing into the darkness, the regret in her eyes deeper than ever.

"I can't remember where it is."

Barbara bowed her head, hung it in shame, and Helena didn't need to see the tears to know they were there.

"It's been too long."

Even Helena had to agree. She'd spent years pretending that there had never been more than the two of them, and realised, with shame equal to Barbara's, she could barely recall the location of the grave either. 

Forgetting was easier than remembering.

But they found it, the quiet resting place of the girl they'd loved like a sister, a daughter, the blonde girl so much younger than either of them. Dinah Lance had paid the price for the naivety that came with her youth and Helena still felt the loss, like Dinah been a piece of her. She'd seen something of herself in the girl; that raw determination, the desire to prove...the loss would never weaken. The most she could hope for was fooling herself that it had.

Suddenly, she felt Barbara's hand in hers, startled by the contact. She looked down at their entwined fingers and back into Barbara's eyes, and didn't shy away from the sorrow in them that greeted her gaze. She let it be mirrored in her own eyes, because it was Barbara, because Barbara was worth the pain that came with breaking through the walls.

By the time they went back to the clock tower, birds were singing the dawn chorus and the first rays of sunlight beamed from the horizon. Helena's hand was still in Barbara's, and even once the last of the darkness was gone, she didn't let go.

 


End file.
